


Five times Elijah was turned down

by kiath



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, New Zealand, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-11
Updated: 2007-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiath/pseuds/kiath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah gets turned down a lot. Prompt suggested by strongplacebo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times Elijah was turned down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strongplacebo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strongplacebo/gifts).



Dom has glue in his hair, gummy little chunks along the line of his scalp, and he picks at it idly as he and Elijah walk to their cars. His ears are flaking, too; the adhesive the make-up people use for their rubbery little hobbit ears doesn't always come off first wash. Dom, Elijah realises, looks as if he is suffering from a particularly mean dose of dandruff. 

"You want to come over tonight?" he asks, watching as Dominic continues to fuss with his hair. "Play Halo or something?"

"Yeah, definitely. Have you asked the others?" 

Dom's looking at Elijah with obvious expectation. _Of course I asked them, Dom, why wouldn't I?_ That's what he wants to hear. 

"I, ah," Elijah's mouth is suddenly too dry, "I mean, just, like, you and me. Come over and play with, ah... just _me_." Elijah's cringing inside, holding it together on the outside, barely, just barely. 

Dom's looking at him oddly, of course; why wouldn't he? They never hang out, just the two of them. "Oh, right. Well. Okay, I have to check with, um. I'll check, yeah? I'll check, and I'll give you a bell later." 

He's hooking his thumb over his shoulder as he walks away, walking backwards towards his own car. Elijah nods and watches Dom literally _back away_ from him. 

Dom doesn't call. Elijah plays Halo by himself until after midnight before retreating to bed. 

*** 

"That fucking snow, it tastes like shit," Elijah whinges. He's said it a million times already that day, as has Dom. But it gets Dom's attention, and for that reason alone it's worth making the count a million and one.

"I know. I need a beer or seven to get rid of the taste," Dom replies, grinning. "You coming?"

Elijah beams in return, delighted at the invitation. His happiness lasts well into the evening, and he doesn't care that Dom's attention is mostly directed elsewhere, at someone else. It's enough just to be close by for the time being. Not forgotten, not tonight. 

Three beers in and his nerves are suitably dulled. "You hungry?" he asks, and Dom considers the question. 

"Yeah, actually. Want to share some kumara chips?"

"I was thinking we could duck out, actually," Elijah says. "There's this Malaysian place, downtown. Allen Street. You know it?"

Dom shakes his head, glancing over his shoulder at the others. At _one_ other. "Oh, well, I'm not sure what me and- what we're doing later. I think we were going to, you know, grab a takeaway. Later on. Um."

"Come out for dinner with me, Dom, please?" Elijah pleads, feeling pathetic even as the words leave his mouth. Dom's not even looking at him anymore. He's being called, called away. 

"It's my round," Dom replies eventually. "I should-" He looks apologetic, but eager to escape. 

Elijah lets him go. 

***

Elijah sags happily against Dom's body, faced turned in against Dom's neck, muttering barely audible nonsense just so he can feel his lips brushing Dom's skin. 

"You're a heavy little shit, you know that?" Dom asks, hoisting Elijah up a little as he struggles with the door key. "Have you been pick-pocketing bricks again?"

Elijah laughs happily, his breath warming his face as it bounces off Dom's neck. "You're so lovely, Dom," he says. "You're so, so... _so_ lovely."

"Yeah, well..." Dom doesn't finish, but Elijah doesn't really care. He's as close to Dom physically as he's ever been, and the combination of their proximity and the liquor he drank is enough to warm Elijah's belly and leave him thoroughly happy. 

Dom helps him up the stairs with all the patience of a saint, and lets Elijah tumble down onto the bed. Elijah grins up at him, trying to flex his body seductively. "Stay a while, Dom." He pushes himself up onto his elbows. "Please?"

"I said I wouldn't be long." Dom hasn't said no, but it's enough to deflate Elijah's pickled ego. "I should get going. Will you be okay?"

"Are you two, like, dating?"

"Yeah." Dom looks away, awkward, always so awkward; Elijah hates it. "I mean, we're sort of together, I guess."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Dom says again. "I better be off. I'll see you tomorrow."

Elijah sprawls back on the bed when Dom is gone. He passes out like that, fully clothed, still wearing his shoes.

***

"You don't have to go, you know. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Mi sofá es su sofá." 

Elijah laughs weakly at his own stupid joke as he watches Dom throwing clothes into a grubby little holdall, the only thing he brought with him from Manchester. Dom admitted early on that he expected to be buying a whole new wardrobe in LA, paid for with the proceeds of his many anticipated job offers, offers which never came. 

"I think it's better if- I mean, Mac's place isn't far, so we can still hang out." Dom won't even look at Elijah anymore. There's so much emptiness in Dom's assurance; it makes Elijah's guts ache with regret. 

When Dom leaves, Elijah makes to kiss him goodbye. Nothing heavy, just on the cheek. He still wants to touch Dom all the time, can't help himself, even now. Dom moves away, muttering, "Don't," and closes the door behind him. 

***

"You're brown."

Dom smiles. "You're not."

They stir their coffees in silence. It's never been this awkward, and that's really saying something. Elijah realises with a sudden jolt quite how long it's been since they were truly close. The New Zealand bonds have frayed and faltered, stretched thin by careers and lives that are no longer shaped by co-owned memories. Nostalgia's only good for so long. Saying _we're more like family_ and really believing it, it's amazing, but, well, that doesn't make it true, does it? Christmases and birthdays go by without so much as a cursory email wishing the best; even Elijah's own father manages more than that. 

They stand in the parking lot, Dom shifting from foot to foot, clearly wanting to be gone. Despite everything, Elijah only wants him to stay. He reaches out and brushes his fingers down the back of Dom's hand, trying to convey how much he needs Dom to just _stay_ this time.

"Lij," is all he says, moving his hand just out of reach. 

Dom drives out of the lot without even glancing in the rear view mirror. Elijah lights a cigarette and makes his way to his own car, unstuck.


End file.
